


A Ghost

by CyanideSerpents



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, explicit content in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 12:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30072159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideSerpents/pseuds/CyanideSerpents
Summary: I always thought it was weird that at the end of the game, they act as though Phineas just ... walked out with the troopers? Yeah, no, he was dragged. So yeah, this is the last mission of the game, but slightly to the left and with a Captain Ghost who holds a little more than a torch for our resident mad scientist.Also, I'm working through a lot right now, and damn this game helped a bit. And I cried like a baby at the ending credits, soo.... a little bit of fix - it for Phineas as well.
Relationships: Female Captain/Phineas Welles, Phineas Welles/Original Female Character(s), The Captain/Phineas Welles
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	A Ghost

Hardly coherent and still woozy from a nasty blow to the back of his head, Phineas Welles was quite sure he was going to die in that little room, weakly glaring holes through Adjutant Akande’s back behind a thick layer of bulletproof glass. The irony was not lost as the world flickered black at the edges of his vision, and he blinked hard trying to clear it.

And then he was sure he had already died, because Akande’s slight form had been replaced by Death itself. A spectre in black, a reaper’s blade dripping with purple shadows and -  _ was that blood? _

He blinked harder, and the figure was suddenly flanked by two familiar faces - not actually familiar in a  _ social  _ sense, of course, but the Vicar was spoken highly of, and he trusted Nyoka as much as an old fugitive could trust a marauding hunter.

“Oh my god -  _ Phineas _ !” Death’s scythe fell from their hand and they were across the room in a moment, one hand pressed up against the glass that separated them.

Well. That was familiar at least. Not Death then, but a Ghost nonetheless. He did make himself laugh.

She lunged for the door controls at the same moment he forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly. Phineas heard the airlock disengage more than he felt it, but he certainly felt the smaller woman’s armor as she threw herself onto him before he could fully leave his cell. 

Phineas yelped in shock and fell backwards, caught quickly by the enthusiastic embrace of the Hope’s first colonist. Despite the thick ( _ painful _ !) armor, it was the first intimate contact he had felt in years, and he felt frozen in place.

She separated from him just as quickly, fingers prying and clawing at the release clasps for her helmet, before a hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her frantic movements.

“Sorry to interrupt, Doctor,” it was Nyoka, who nodded to him once before tugging harder on Ghost’s shoulder. “But we need to go, this reunion can wait just a few more minutes, okay?”

The colonist took a step back and nodded, and Phineas suddenly felt very grateful that she usually removed the helmet when she spoke with him. It dehumanized her, and as she swept her ( _ n-ray, of course, they haven’t weaponized shadows - yet) _ scythe from the floor, it folded, and she returned it to her belt, slinging a sniper rifle from around her back into her hands instead.

Ghost turned again to regard him, and Phineas realized she was standing above the corpse of Sophia Akande - or rather, her decapitated body. He didn’t particularly feel like looking around for her head, and a sudden explosion from somewhere in Tartarus reminded them all that it was time to go.

“Captain,” the Vicar, silent until now, had been bent over Akande’s terminal, and now looked steadily at the woman in the middle of the room, who moved to his side and inspected whatever he was looking at. 

A muttered curse, a quickly printed data card, and then Ghost had a hold of Phineas’s hand, and they were all running.

The journey to the Unreliable was a blur, and all he could really remember was the  _ screaming _ , jubilant and agonized, a thousand uniform colors clashing in a bloody rainbow. Through the dizziness of head trauma, he watched her move like a hurricane, wielding a heavy rifle with one hand and deadly accurate precision. Where the world howled, she was silent, and moved like a reaper among the damned.

Just for a moment, he understood completely why the Board was terrified of her, and it wasn’t just a staggering intellect. 

\--

The group didn’t stop running and shooting until the Unreliable rumbled beneath their feet, and even then the world was still a whirlwind of colors and sounds. 

One moment, Phineas was staring at the golden emblem of the ship, the red paint almost too bright to look at, and then suddenly he was flat on his back in a darkened room, gazing up at the roof of a bed too pristine to have been slept in.

It felt as though he was underwater, his movements slow and heavy, the world around him only filtering through his consciousness in bits and pieces.

The doctor tried to force himself up, needing to get his bearings, and only barely got his elbows under him before there were hands on his shoulders, pressing him back to the bed. 

“No,” he tried to tell them. “There’s so much to do, I don’t have time to rest.”

He wasn’t sure it made much of an impact as he promptly passed out as soon as his head hit the pillows. 

\--

When he next regained consciousness, the clarity of his thoughts was welcome, despite the plethora of aches and pains he was suddenly  _ acutely  _ aware of. Phineas kept his eyes closed, wondering if his savior had been a trauma - induced hallucination, and he would open them to the cold grey walls of Tartarus -- or worse.

“Captain, you know I trust you with my life, but I have to tell you I think this is a terrible idea.” Well, that unfamiliar voice paired with a cystypig’s snuffling snout on his wrist meant wherever he was, the board wasn’t, thank the law. 

Opening his eyes, Phineas gave a soft sigh of relief at the sight of his own room, absentmindedly giving Bubbles the ear scratches that it was so determinedly begging for. He was still weak, but the cystypig was content enough with the love it received that it allowed him to use it to push himself up, and just managed to make it to his feet before the door slid open. 

There was a beat of silence.

“I told you, Captain. I don’t think anything can kill that old man.” A taller woman with short blonde hair was gazing down at his savior, silhouetted by the doorway. The smaller woman was still wrapped in her dark armor, but thankfully the soulless helmet was tucked under her arm. 

The relief on Ghost’s face was palpable, and he found a soft smile making its way on his face at the thought that she had been worrying over him. 

“Thank you, Ellie,” She murmured, moving further into his room and placing her helmet gently among the papers on his chaotic desk. He made to move forward and nearly fell, catching himself once more on Bubbles’ back, hoping neither of the women noticed. “I’ll call for you if he needs anything.”

Phineas watched the blonde woman ( _ Ellie? _ ) give a sharp nod, sparing him a glance and a raised eyebrow before she disappeared from the doorway, and a few moments later her footsteps had completely faded. 

“Well, old friend,” his voice had roughened considerably, and he cleared his throat before continuing, scrubbing his free hand across his face and grimacing at a bruise on his jaw that suddenly made itself known. “I suppose we’re even, now, in the sense that you just saved my life.”

She nodded slowly, but she wasn’t looking at him. Long fingers moved across the helmet, mapping out the various wires and tubes attached as though they hadn’t done it a thousand times before. ( _ A nervous tic, strange to see without inches of glass between them. _ )

It was disconcerting, and he wondered, for a moment, if he had left something on his desk that was holding her attention, before he continued.

“Well… I’m sure you’re wondering about the next phase of our plan, and I have a few colonists that I --” She whirled around suddenly and the fire in her gaze silenced him without a word. She moved towards him purposefully ( _ she was not a raptidon, but he suddenly felt as though he was being stalked by one), _ and it took all of his pride not to cower back onto the bed he had just vacated. Bubbles snorted as she approached and Phineas quickly released the poor cystypig’s flesh that he had nervously grabbed a vicious hold of.

She stopped, just a few inches in front of him, and the fury radiating from her made him very much wish he still had the bulletproof glass between them.

“You…” She spoke through gritted teeth, and forced a deep breath before continuing. “Are officially on  _ medical leave, _ and if you continue to attempt to work, I have enough sedatives to put you on your ass for  _ a month. _ ” ( _ As much as he would love to believe that was an empty threat _ … )

He was gawking at her, and after a few seconds had to consciously close his mouth and blink a few times. 

“I… ”

She was already moving past him, waving her hand as if she could fan away his response. “I’m going to the Unreliable to get a few things, if I get back,” she turned, one hand on the doorframe to look him dead in the eyes. “And you have attempted to leave this room, I’m going to put you into suspended animation.”

Then she was gone, and he was left with only Bubbles and the cold, soulless helmet to watch him collapse backwards onto his bed. Even standing for that long had been exhausting, he idly wondered whether he had sustained permanent damage. Those corporate troopers certainly hadn’t been  _ gentle _ … 

Just as he noticed how dry his mouth was, Welles noticed the bottle of water on the floor by his bed, and just as the aches in his body became unbearable, Ghost walked back in, with a bag over her shoulder and a heavy - duty aid kit in her arms. She strode across the room without acknowledging him, and set the kit on his desk next to her helmet. 

She still hadn’t changed out of her armor, he noticed absently, and as she popped open the white box and started removing bottles, he forced himself to stagger to his feet without assistance, and Bubbles went happily snuffling out the door, leaving them alone in the room.

He took a deep breath to steel himself, and took slow, measured steps to the desk, catching himself on the edge and immediately feeling like a scolded child at the scorching look she sent him.

“You shouldn’t even be out of bed.”

“Yes, well, there’s a lot of things I’ve done that I probably shouldn’t have.” His tone was light, joking, and fell completely flat when she coldly turned back to the medication, glaring as if she was trying to burn holes into the labels.

“Ghost…” He reached for her but stopped, his hand hovering over her shoulder before it fell, and her gaze suddenly returned to him.

“Phineas.” He remained quiet, questioning. ( _ Had he done something? God forbid he said something in his delirium he wouldn’t be able to take back. _ ) “Do you really not understand?”

“Understand what?” His head was starting to swirl again, but he was taken aback - was she actually angry with him?

“Wha- You almost died!” ( _ Was that it? _ ) Phineas almost laughed out loud before he realized there were tears glossing her eyes. “You almost died for  _ me  _ and  _ my family _ and you are still trying to  _ run yourself into the ground _ for everyone around you so for  _ fuck’s sake go lay back down I’m not losing anyone else I love.” _ She slammed the first aid kit shut and forced a bottle into his hand before turning abruptly on her heel and disappearing with her helmet and the bag, the door sliding shut behind her.

As he slipped a tablet under his tongue and climbed back into bed, he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t hearing her sobbing.

\--

She was staying in his orbital lab. He could hardly fathom why, but she had set up one of his experimentation tables in the corner of the large room as a makeshift bed. 

After the first night, ( _ which he had been forced to spend completely in bed, and everytime he opened his door he could see her through the glass across the room, as if waiting for him to try to leave _ ) she had hacked into the lighting system, instating a stable day night cycle that the lab hadn’t seen in years. 

That second night, when the whole lab suddenly went dark ( _ he still posited that the night cycle was too long _ ) _ ,  _ Phineas had honestly thought that they were under attack again. It was in panic that he ran to the lab, and just as he passed the glass barrier, she had leapt off her cot and intercepted him. 

Blindly, he had grasped onto her, looking about wildly for intruders, and it was full minutes before she was able to calm him down to explain. 

He was allowed free reign of his lab again after that, but he had gained a shadow, and though he was appreciative of her intellect, it also was becoming increasingly frustrating that he wasn’t being allowed to work. Any time he drifted towards his notes, or his terminal, she was there, leaning against the wall with one eye on a datapad and the other boring a hole through his skull.

It was the most leisure reading he had done in decades.

\--

Phineas was losing his mind by the fifth day. He had to keep reminding himself that she was his friend, and was only trying to help him rest and recover. ( _ LAW, let him remember that. _ ) But every second he spent  _ relaxing _ felt like a direct affront to the colonists of the Hope, the ship he could now see hovering outside the viewports of his lab. 

They hadn’t spoken since the night before, and what little she said to him after Tartarus was rushed, clipped answers before she was busy again. Always busy, making calls on her datapad, typing away on one of the terminals, and at one point, he was sure he saw her reading over some of his notes from previous years. 

The most interaction Ghost had with him were at meal times, when she would sit in his room and watch him, refusing to let him leave food on his plate and practically forcing the medication down his throat. In the evenings, she and Bubbles would sit at his desk, her at the chair and the cystypig on the floor, and tinker with her helmet, or the plethora of weapons that she had brought with her until he fell asleep.

He had dozed off watching her take apart that sniper rifle two nights in a row now, but, at one point he was sure he woke up to see her sitting on his bed, head in her hands.

Now, eating what he assumed to be breakfast ( _ a protein bar is breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you aren’t too picky _ ) he wondered if she could feel the tension in the room as thickly as he did, and Phineas wished for a second that he had the courage to break this uneasy silence.

It turned out he didn’t have to, as her datapad on his desk pinged loudly. Her eyes closed briefly in what could only be annoyance, and she spun around, readjusting it so it was leaning against the glass window. It flickered for a moment, and then that Ellie woman was thrown into stark relief against the dark background of what could only be the Unreliable. 

“Good, he’s not dead.” She said, as soon as she saw Phineas sitting on his bed. “Shall I return the Unreliable, Captain?”

“Ellie.” Ghost’s voice was strained, and he became suddenly and painfully aware that he hadn’t seen her sleeping. He hoped against reason that that pristine bed on the Unreliable had not belonged to her.

“I promise that was a joke. I said a full week, and I meant it. Acute exhaustion is no joke - but that does go for all of us.” Ellie’s gaze was meaningful, and it was not directed at him.

Ghost’s hands spidered across the top of Phineas’s desk, wishing for the helmet still in the orbital lab. “I know, El.”

The blonde woman’s gaze flickered to him before returning to the colonist. “Do you want to talk about… that thing… in private? Nyoka’s been asking and you know Parvati.”

Ghost’s voice hardened. “El. Not the time.”

Ellie groaned and closed her eyes, running a hand through her short cropped hair. “It will  _ never be the time _ with you, Captain.”

“Forgive me, next time I’m fistfighting my pillows, I’ll remember that my nightmares take a backseat to my --” She made a choking sound, and Phineas had been watching Ghost so closely he almost didn’t realize that Ellie had been motioning towards him at that moment. 

Ghost took a deep breath before continuing. 

“Okay. You’re right, we all need sleep, and I suck at it. He sucks at it, too, but what are you gonna fucking do?”

“You’re going to take the damn pills I sent you with and stop pretending that they're -- “ Ghost lunged forward and Ellie’s face shifted back to a black screen, the datapad quickly flipped down. She got up quickly as though to leave, but Phineas moved faster ( _ which already wasn’t right _ ), planting his wiry frame in the doorway as she had a few days ago.

“Well, old friend, I know you don’t think I’m stupid.” He kept his tone light, but he was watching her closely now, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She bit her lip and answered the floor.

“Ellie is just being… overprotective.” The excuse was weak, even to her, and she winced slightly at his scoff.

“Alright, maybe I don’t know what you think at all.” The implication pulled her head up and her eyes wide. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Well, that’s good for you, because I’m not, but I am an  _ idiot  _ for not watching you as closely as you seem to watch me.” She blinked, and he desperately ignored the way her eyes seemed to widen further. “When was the last time you slept?”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes again.

“Ghost.” He stepped forward, but she still refused to look up. She rocked back on her heels and he suddenly realized the implication of the call he had just witnessed. “Where is the Unreliable?”

Her mouth twisted, and her gaze was guarded as she regarded him. There were a few more beats of silence before she dropped her eyes again.

“Amber Heights… I think.” 

“You think?”

“I… I told ADA that Ellie was the Captain for the next week. It’s not really my decision right now.” Her fingers were moving constantly, finding wrinkles in the casual wear she now donned, or twisting into the fabric until the skin on her hand purpled.

Incredulous didn’t quite cover it. Phineas gave a deep sigh. 

“My friend, I know you were concerned about me, but Tartarus can’t leave any lasting impact that isn’t already there.” It was meant to sound joking. He meant to throw his arms wide, dramatically, see if he could get her to laugh, or at least knock that somber expression off her face. His tone was deadpan, almost resigned, and he found himself unwilling to make the grand gesturing.

He almost wished he did it anyway when her eyes filled with tears for the second time that week.

“I know, Phineas.” She was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. She was silent for a few seconds but so was he, sensing she was grappling over whether or not to say -- “Better than you may think.”

Ghost still wouldn’t look at him, so he watched her ever-shifting hands, only stilling when he spoke. 

“This wasn’t supposed to be a week that you watched me recover.”

She slowly shook her head.

“This was supposed to be for the both of us.”

An even slower nod.

“Why aren’t you taking your pills?” The hands were trembling now, and he almost didn’t notice her staring at him, those tears threatening to overflow. “This has been the first nights I haven’t had nightmares in over a decade, so I know that can’t be what you’re worried about.”

Her lip trembled, and salt water finally streaked down her face as she spoke.

“Every time I close my eyes, the lab is empty, and I’m too late again.” 

What? His confusion must have shown on his face because she took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before continuing.

“I wouldn’t have nightmares with my meds but… you sleep heavy. Sleep through an electrical storm kind of heavy. Sleep through a bunch of corporate troopers  _ marching through the lab right  _ **_past me_ ** \--” Her words were picking up speed, panicking, an anxiety attack if he had ever seen one, and without thinking too much lest he lose his courage, he pulled her into a hug.

She froze for just long enough for him to regret every decision he had ever made before her arms were wrapped around him so tightly he could barely breathe. ( _ He found himself wondering, not for the first time, what  _ exactly  _ she had meant when she said love. _ )

\-- 


End file.
